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Asked if his father would have been proud of him, Jay Wilde hesitates. “Possibly. I think he might be,” he says. His uncertainty is understandable.

Wilde’s late father spent his whole life raising cattle on Bradley Nook, a 172-acre farm in Derbyshire. Jay continued the family tradition after inheriting the land in 2011, but as a committed vegetarian he found the process of raising animals for slaughter increasingly difficult.

Caught between his beliefs and family tradition, the 60-year-old says he went through “years of turmoil”. He adds: “We did [our] best to look after them [the cattle], but you knew you were going to betray them. You really couldn’t look them in the eye.”

He says he was appalled by the slaughtering process and became convinced that his livestock sensed their fate. “People choose to fool themselves by saying, ‘they’re only animals, they don’t know what’s happening.’ But I’m sure they do.”

“When we had to send them to the abattoir, we did [our] best to look after them, but you knew you were going to betray them. You really couldn’t look them in the eye.”

Jay Wilde, former beef cattle farmer

Quiet revolution

Finally, Wilde felt forced to act. Last summer, following a meeting with the Vegan Society, he and his wife Katja sent the majority of their 70 cattle to an animal sanctuary in Norfolk.

The 12 cows and five calves that still roam the land around their brick house are essentially pets, favourites from the original herd. They have all been named after some defining feature or characteristic, say the Wildes, introducing me to Tiger Tim, Choc, Hole in the Head, Blue and Rosie.

The cows still have some farming duties – they graze on grass fields and support the ecosystem – but judging by the couple’s affection for them, it’s clear they receive as much love and attention as their 11 cats and two dogs.

Sending the bulk of the herd to a sanctuary was the first step in a quiet revolution at Bradley Nook. Wilde and his wife are turning the place into a vegan vegetable farm and have bigger, bolder plans to transform the estate into a vegan destination complete with a restaurant, cookery school, shop and possibly even holiday accommodation. The couple are crowdfunding the transformation and if they pull it off, Bradley Nook is likely to be the first such vegan farmland in the country.

The overhaul, which could begin this year, feels “daunting”, admits Wilde. But the unassuming farmer is far happier. Knowing he never has to send another cow to the abattoir is a huge weight off his shoulders.

“What we were doing worked in the past, but it’s no longer fit for purpose really. It consumes too many resources, it’s morally indefensible if you think animals are anything more than meat.”

Wilde is aware he is abandoning his heritage. He has also put himself at odds with cattle farmers like his brother-in-law who see vegetarianism and veganism as a direct threat to their livelihood.

To others, he’s a hero.

Katja shows me a bag of heartwarming letters they have received from people applauding their decision to give the cows away and go vegan. Some have come from as far away as Canada. Such adulation makes Wilde uncomfortable.“It’s difficult to deal with,” he says. “What I’ve done, I couldn’t see an alternative. I don’t feel like a hero.”

He has little sympathy for the vegan and animal welfare activists who send abuse and even death threats to dairy and cattle farmers. “It’s inappropriate, it’s cruel to the people involved because the farmers are… locked into a system.”

Never felt like a real farmer

Wilde feels he had little option other than following his father into farming. “I completely failed at school and as the only son I was ultimately destined [to take over].”

He says he never felt like a real farmer. “I did the shovelling but I didn’t buy into the ethos.”

He suspects his father was never a particularly enthusiastic farmer either, but felt compelled to help his own disabled father on the land. “I think a lot of people are trapped in agriculture and they don’t know what else to do,” he says. His own dream job would have been to work at Derby’s Rolls Royce factory.

Inside their kitchen, Katja serves up a lunch of beetroot, carrot and celeriac stew with quinoa. It’s a typical meal after the couple’s move to veganism. Setting up the new farm means they want to practice what they preach, but Wilde admits it has been hard to let go of cheese.

There is just one inhabitant of Bradley Nook who seems unimpressed by the changes. The departure of the herd has made a cow named Badger “cranky”, says Katja. “She was the queen and we’ve taken away her subjects.”

How the Nairobi terror attack provided a rare glimpse into the changing work of the SAS

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Could I strike it lucky in Scotland’s gold rush? I went panning to find out

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